


Act the part

by Kadimar



Category: Carmilla - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 17:39:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5937112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kadimar/pseuds/Kadimar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla Karnstein is an established actress, who seems less than excited about her new movie and life in general. For Laura Hollis this is the chance she has been waiting for all along. Their director seems to thinks they have amazing chemistry and would be great on screen. Needless to say both girls don't agree and why would they? After all, they can't even stand each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Act the part

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I'm doing. I don't what this is, I don't why or how it happened, but there it is. Hope you like it.

Whenever asked by interviewers or fans about her favorite pastime Carmilla always gives the same answer: reading. She loves the smell of a book, fresh ink or old pages; the simplicity in the stark contrast of black letters on white paper; the fleeting shimmer of the writer’s heart concealed in an intricate web of words; the secret messages hidden in the twists and turns of a story. But most of all she loves the tranquility it brings her, as her mind starts to chase the meaning of someone else’s truths and just for a little while it lets go of the past mistakes and the ever present pain.

Carmilla truly loves it and that’s why she was extremely annoyed at herself when her fingers brushed against the cool surface of her smartphone. This was the fourth time she got distracted and she tried to fight it, she really did, but it was like an itch that just wouldn’t let her be. She glanced at the phone. Went back to the book. Read yet another sentence that made pretty much no sense in her brain.

With a frustrated grow she snapped the book shut and reached for the damn thing. 7:48 PM. Six minutes had passed since the last time she had checked. Six.

“Nooo...” Her head fell dejectedly on a pillow.

Carmilla has never been the impatient type; she believes that with the good things in life you have to take your time and not rush. Immediate gratification might be fun and all, but it doesn’t last and it’s never worth it in the end. She would know. The thing is, though, her manager was surely taking her sweet, sweet time and it was wearing Carmilla’s nerves thin.

She sighed, got up from the couch and stood still wondering what to do until Ellen, the upper mentioned manager, decided to finally grace her with her presence. Carmilla’s eyes scanned the apartment for possible sources of entertainment, but unfortunately landed right on the big black clock. 7:49 PM. It felt like it was mocking her, so she scowled at the thing, but the clock was completely disaffected. If anything it kind of looked like the silvery hands got even slower.

Wine. Carmilla needed wine.

She walked over to the tiny part of her apartment that was considered to be a kitchen and pulled the wine out of the fridge. She poured herself a generous amount and briefly considered getting a glass for Ellen. Yeah, that didn’t happen, the woman kept her on her toes all day long, so you know what: screw hospitality.

Carmilla leaned against the kitchen island and sipped her wine. She didn’t want to sound desperate, but it… it had been so long. She had wrapped up her last movie, what, seven months ago and she hadn’t done anything ever since then. It was probably kind of her fault to be honest, she had asked for some time to rest, but she was tired back then and didn’t even mean that much time.

So she was excited when her manager finally called to tell her she’s coming over with a script. Ellen only came over if it was a great script and she wanted to see her client’s reaction to it. Hell, you know what happened last time the manager visited her place? An Oscar nomination.

Carmilla rested her elbow on the counter and placed her chin in her hand. She was bored out of her mind and she really wanted to be working again, preferably this century.

Finally, the loud ring of her doorbell filled the space and in less than a second Carmilla was striding towards the door. She reached for the intercom, but in the last second forced herself to wait a few moments. She was Carmilla Karnstein and she had a reputation to maintain. She pushed the button to answer and tried to sound as bored as humanly possible.

“Yeah?”

“Hi! It’s me.” It was Ellen, thank god it was Ellen. She pushed the other button to let her in and tried to resist the temptation of sagging against the door in relief. Instead she opened it and leaned against the doorframe.

Ellen didn’t wait for an invitation and came into the apartment. There was something odd here, but Carmilla couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Usually her manager is the definition of poise and walks around like she owns the place (which is understandable, considering that she and her husband actually own a building). Right now, though, she almost looked… uncertain. It was weird as hell.

Carmilla dismissed it in favor of more pressing matters. She closed the door and turned around to look at the other woman.

“So, you got something for me?”

Ellen lowered herself on the couch Carmilla was laying on earlier and nodded.

“I do.” She paused and a look of uncharacteristic hesitance crossed her features as she glanced between her purse and her client. The woman cleared her throat and pointed with an open hand towards the smaller couch on her side. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Carmilla narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her manager’s strange behavior and sat opposite her in the chair. Ellen didn’t even row her eyes at the petty act of defiance and it was really starting to freak her client out.

Ellen opened her bag and pulled out a manila envelope. Carmilla zeroed in on it immediately and had to mentally restrain herself from jumping over the low wooden table and grabbing it. The manager placed it right between the two of them in the middle of the table and leaned back, crossing her long legs.

This was all the permission Carmilla needed and her hands snatched it quickly. Usually she was slow and careful with the opening, taking her time in order to savor the moment, but there was no more patience inside of her, so instead she tore apart the paper to get to the script.

Carmilla took one look at the first page.

“What the...?”

 

* * *

 

  
There were a few very awkward weeks back in August, when Laura Hollis, ignorant to the true meaning of the phrase, posted all over her Facebook, Twitter and Tumblr her intention to “Netflix and chill”. Repeatedly. You would think that the worst part of it must have been the complete and utter mortification upon discovering what she had actually been saying all along, right? Well, no. The worst part was her dad finding out what it meant by a coworker before Laura herself did.

The girl still shudders at the memory of her dad’s epic meltdown over the phone. It took four hours to convince him that she did not in fact have a secret girlfriend and he made her swear on her Harry Potter book collection that when she does get a girlfriend she would tell him right away. However Laura drew the line at his request for her to send him blood test results and a detailed biography of her future sweetheart. Her ex-roommate Jacob, who had a front row seat to the madness, thought that her dad was had lost his mind; honestly the girl considered herself lucky he didn’t hop on the first plane to get to her.

While that horrible, horrible event was now history, Laura was scarred for life. She couldn’t watch Netflix for over a month after that, because the burn of embarrassment was still fresh and her friend LaFontaine refused let her live it down. (Actually LaF knew about the mistake right away, but thought it would be so much fun to let Laura find out on her own. Some friend.)

Nevertheless, the girl was making small steps towards recovery – last week she even managed to watch a whole episode of a show in broad daylight! (That act of bravery might have had something to do with the fact that she was also guest starring in said episode.) And right now she was in the middle of a full Buffy re-watch. She was running out of cookies and cocoa at an alarming pace, but it was a painful season and she needed the comfort.

Laura was on the edge of her seat, watching the fight between Buffy and Faith and munching on a chocolate chip cookie. Entranced by what was happening on her screen she didn’t notice the sounds coming from the outside of her small apartment. That is, until her door was suddenly thrown open by an overexcited blonde in a black dress, who burst inside shouting at the top of her lungs the words:

“Who’s your momma?”

Laura shrieked and jumped behind her couch. She emerged from there not a second later with a wooden baseball bat in one hand and a black can of bear spray in the other.

“Don’t come any closer or I sw-… Betty?”

“That’s right, Betty’s your momma!”

Laura had no idea how to react to the sight of her agent stumbling around trying to get to her. When Betty finally accomplished her goal she hugged Laura tightly, not even noticing that her tiny client was armed and freaked out. The small girl took a few steps back so that she could look at her very tall agent without hurting her neck.

“Wha… how did you get in here?”

“By coming through the door,” Betty pointed a single digit behind her. Her tone was slow and deliberate, like she was afraid that Laura wouldn’t understand normal speech.

“But it was locked.” Laura’s voice was laced with confusion; she was absolutely certain that she had locked the door, not to mention that she checked, twice, every night.

“I used a key.”

Laura glanced at the door and, yep, there it was.

“When did I give you a key?” The girl looked at empty space as she quietly muttered the next words to herself. “I don’t remember giving you a key.”

Betty waved her hand in attempt to chase away Laura’s concerns like they were an annoying mosquito.

“Details. Forget that, we have more important things to talk about right now.”

The girl eyed her agent with a look of great distrust etched on her face. It better be something big or she had every intention of using the bat and the bear spray that were still in her hands. Also, side note: change the locks. She ain’t forgetting, alright.

“I might have gotten you an audition for J.P. Armitage’s next movie.”

“Say what now?”

Betty nodded in understanding and reached into her purse to take out her smartphone. She was swiping left and right for a second before speaking again.

“You have,” Betty showed her the display, where a timer had already started counting down, “thirty seconds to freak out about it and then we need to move.”

Laura gaped at the woman in front her, all traces of hostility gone and replaced with a face full of shock and unrestrained awe. She needed a second (more like a minute, make it an hour actually) to process this information.

J.P. Armitage was like the fricking Cinderella of the movie industry; except that he was a guy and he didn’t have to marry anyone. Coming out of nowhere a few years back, the man turned out to be one of the greatest at his job. While very young and slightly inexperienced, he was undeniably one of the biggest most desirable directors in Hollywood. Every producer wanted him on his project and every actor dreamed of working with him. Not to mention that a lot of the people involved in his movies became super rich and/or super famous. Just an audition, a chance to be seen by him, was a huge deal.

Laura was rendered speechless. She was trying to regain the ability to express thoughts in verbal form by slowly moving her lips, but an actual sound was yet to be made. Betty was looking at her with an amused smirk.

The countdown reached zero and the agent energetically threw the smartphone back in her purse. She stood up and grabbed Laura’s shoulders maneuvering her client’s body towards the bedroom.

“Okay, dude, we have to go.”

“Go where?”

Yeah, Laura was still a little slow.

“To meet J.P.”

“The director, you do mean the director, right?”

“Yes, yes, I mean the director.”

Betty let go of Laura’s shoulders as they reached the bedroom. She looked her client up and down and winced.

“Ooh, this is bad. You can’t go to the party looking like this.”

“Okay, first of all, excuse you! I’ll have you know that this is a perfectly fine pajama; I have even gone to the store in this. Second, party, what party?”

“That’s where he’s waiting for us. We need to hurry, come on!”

Laura thought it was extremely weird that an ultra-famous director was waiting at a party for an unknown actress like herself, but, hey, who cares, it was J.P. Armitage!

“We’re gonna get you in something cute.”

The two of them started rummaging through the closet in an epic quest for a suitable outfit. Betty, rather impressed she even found them, picked out some very skin revealing clothes. Laura looked at her choice with nothing but pure horror in her eyes. There was no way in hell or Hogwarts that she was starting her career in a skirt this short. Nuh-uh.

“It’s super cute, wear it!”

“No!”

“Come on, dude. This is what parties are all about. And finally you’re out of that hamster ball that your dad had you living in.”

“He just had… safety concerns.”

“And now it’s time to live. You could kill two birds with one stone – get the audition and find a smoking gay lady to celebrate with.”

The girl gave a look of absolute rejection accompanied with a low growl to make her point more clear. Betty answered with a grimace and a shaking head.

“I can’t believe I was actually surprised to find you home on a Friday night.”

Most of their conversation went in a similar manner. Despite the many disagreements they had on what Laura should wear, it didn’t take them too much time to get her ready, though that was mostly because Betty was really pushy.

Soon they were leaving and Laura, hopefully unnoticed, pocketed the key her agent had used to get in. Her brain had finally caught up to what was happening and she was nervous and really excited and she might have jumped in front of taxi in order to make the driver stop.

As she was watching the city fly by through the car window, Laura could feel deep in her bones that this was the night her life was going to change forever.

She wasn’t wrong.

 

* * *

 

  
Ellen had a feeling this meeting wouldn’t go well and for the first time in her life she was quite sorry to be right. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily, having no clue how she was going to convince her stubborn client that this movie was a good idea.

All Carmilla had done was read the title and she had literally thrown the script across the room. At the moment the thick stack of papers was lying in one of the corners of the room, near the door of the bathroom, while the young woman was standing in the kitchen as far away from it as possible. Carmilla had been quiet for far too long, which certainly wasn’t a good sign. On the bright side she was downing her third glass of wine, so maybe she would get really drunk and Ellen would make her sign to the project.

Wait a second. That wasn’t legal, was it? Damn.

“Please, say something.” Ellen finally broke the silence.

Carmilla looked at her for a second and then poured herself more wine. Her short nails were playing a melody against the smooth surface of the glass and she seemed to be thinking about something. Ellen had no idea what was going through her head, but it probably wasn’t very good. The young woman finally spoke up.

“I thought we had an agreement – I work with you and you don’t bring that crap to me.”

Ellen couldn’t help the exasperated groan that left her lips as she let her head fall forward into her hands.

“You don’t know if it’s crap.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Aren’t we a bit too old for this game?”

“Aren’t you a bit too old to be acting like a stubborn child?”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Carmilla narrowed her eyes and looked at Ellen like she was about to start throwing all of her kitchen equipment at her. The manager winced and gulped heavily as she eyed the drawer, where she knew laid a collection of really pointy knives.

“Look, I know how it sounds-“

“You sure? Because if you knew you wouldn’t have brought that piece of garbage to me.”

“It’s not garbage!”

Carmilla looked at her like this was the stupidest thing she had ever said and Ellen could feel her patience dissipating. She was going to try one more time, just one, for the good of both of them, and then to hell with this stubborn asshole.

“At least listen to me, damn it! When have I ever brought to you a bad script?”

Carmilla looked like she was about to make another smartass comment, but whatever she saw on Ellen’s face stopped her. Good, someone was finally willing to hear reason, it only took forever.

“I do know how it sounds. Just like you I thought it was stupid and doomed to fail. But then I spoke to the director, he made me read it, explained to me his vision and it was good, Carmilla. Like really good. And he wants you in one of the main roles, the title character.”

Carmilla had come a little closer and was tapping her fingers on the surface of the kitchen island. She still looked unconvinced, but at least she seemed to be thinking about it, instead of just condemning it, so maybe there was hope after all. She finally spoke up after a few minutes.

“It’s based on a mainstream book.”

Ellen visibly perked up; her marvelous manager senses were tingling. That was it, she had her, Carmilla was thinking about it and all she needed was a little (okay, probably not that little) convincing that she would like the script.

“Hasn’t stopped you before.”

“It’s about a vampire, Ellen.”

“So is “Interview with the Vampire.”

“A broody lesbian vampire.”

“Right up your alley.”

“Who ends up being one of the good guys.”

“It’s a beautiful story about love and sacrifice.”

Carmilla glanced briefly at the script. It was a tricky idea that could easily turn into crap and destroy her career beyond repair. But she had never played a centuries old vampire and, from what she had heard, it was a complex interesting character. The book had also received a lot of praise from critics all over the world, so it probably wasn’t a bad source material. Then again…

“I spent half my life making a name for myself. It could cost me everything I’ve worked so hard for, Ellen. It’s a pretty big gamble and I really like my career.”

“I really like your career too. After all I get 10% of your earnings.”

Carmilla couldn’t help but smile a little at that. However she quickly turned serious again as her mind was working wild with the possibilities. She had seen a number of good scripts turn into trash and the consequences that had for everyone involved.

Ellen could clearly see the hesitance on her face. The manager though had one last ace up her sleeve and she knew it was time to use it.

“You didn’t see the name on the director, did you?”

The actress knew that tone, it was the one Ellen always used before delivering an argument she believed powerful enough to end the discussion. Carmilla knew that she had lost the battle and now had to at least read the damn script.

“No, but I have feeling you’ll tell me what it is.”

“J.P. Armitage. You remember that movie the two of you worked on some time ago, right?”

Oh yeah, Carmilla remembered it. It was the one that made both of them worldwide famous. Not to mention that J.P. was something like a friend. One of the few.

She sighed and with a slight shake of her head moved towards the other corner of the room to pick up the script. Ellen tried really hard not to grin and failed miserably.

 

* * *

 

  
Betty pressed the button for the top floor of the building and the two women watched as the metal doors closed and the cabin started moving upward. Laura’s body was practically bursting with nervous energy; she was wriggling her fingers and shaking slightly, obviously unable to get under control her anxiety.

“What if he has left?” She asked quietly, her voice small and wavering. Betty, now much calmer after they had finally arrived, put a comforting hand on her clients back.

“Dude, don’t worry. He’s there, trust me.”

“How can you be so sure? It’s been over an hour.”

The agent grimaced and didn’t provide and answer right away, which, of course, made Laura immediately suspicious. She had a feeling where this was going, and she probably wasn’t going to like is, but she had to know. Her agent was her responsibility.

“What did you do?”

“Who says I’ve done anything?”

“Really?”

Betty seemed to be thinking of an answer for a few moments before she visibly winced and admitted the reality of the situation in a rush of words.

“I may or may not have fetched him one too many Bloody Marys and then locked him in a room.”

“No!” Laura’s eyes had pretty much doubled in size. The look on her face was expressing something between shock, horror and maybe a bit of awe (she is never ever admitting that one) and she stayed rooted to her spot even when the elevator doors opened with a ding. “You didn’t!”

“Well, what did you expect me to do?” Betty got off and after quickly realizing her client was not following, she reached behind and pulled her off by the neck. “I needed to come get you and it looked like a good option at the time.”

Laura wasn’t sure which was more difficult to comprehend: her agent’s willingness to go to extremes and probably push and brake several laws or the fact that somewhere in this building one of Hollywood’s big-shot directors had gotten drunk on Bloody Mary cocktails.

Lost in that debate, the girl didn’t notice the loud music blaring from one of the rooms, until Betty was opening the door and pushing her inside a spacious living room. The furniture was modern and looked hella expensive, even though Laura couldn’t see much of it, thanks to the many bodies that filled the room. People were dancing here and there; some were exchanging loud slurring bits of sentences between themselves and others seemed to be trying very successfully to get blackout drunk. The smell of alcohol, sweat and numerous perfumes hit the girl’s nostrils with an overwhelming power and she bunched her nose in disgust. Laura liked parties as much as any other person in this place, but she was far too sober to enjoy herself, not to mention that there were no prospects of liquid courage for her tonight.

Betty led them to yet another locked door and fished a key from her purse that she used to unlock it. Laura couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Oh my god, who the hell are you? Do you, like, have some kind of magical key that unlocks all doors?”

Betty smirked and was about to enter the room, but she hesitated in the last minute.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Laura could feel her jaw going slack, but as the meaning behind the words, the worry in her agent’s tone, truly reached her she smiled reassuringly. Only Betty Spielsdorf could go through all this trouble, from the Bloody Marys to the locked director, just to hesitate in the end for the sake of her actor’s comfort. It was actually kinda endearing.

“Well, it’s a little morally grey, I admit, but I can work with it. I think.”

Betty let out a relieved sigh and after taking a second to regain her composure she opened the door for her client and entered the room after her.

Laura didn’t know what she was expecting to see, but it certainly wasn’t that. Inside there was a young-looking man, no more than thirty years old or something like that, who the young actress immediately recognized as J.P. Armitage, director extraordinaire. He was spinning in a chair, in the middle of the room, with a pink straw in his mouth and a red cocktail on his lap, looking positively gleeful, like an overgrown child… who also had a beard.

Laura shut her eyes tight for a few seconds and opened them again to make sure that her eyes weren’t lying to her and this was real. The picture did not change nor did it go away, so it must have been true, but just for the record – it was really, really bizarre.

The man stopped spinning when he noticed the two women, beamed a megawatt smile at them and jumped from his chair to great them. He shook Betty’s hand energetically, like they were old friends that haven’t seen each other in a long time.

“Ms. Spielsdorf, I am so happy that you have found your way back here! And who is your lovely companion?”

“J.P. let me introduce to you Laura Hollis. We talked about her, remember?”

“Why yes, of course! Ms. Hollis, it is very nice to meet you.” He took her hand and held it for a second. It was a warm gesture, but brief enough to remain professional (at least as professional as the setting allowed) and the girl found herself smiling at him. “I must say, your agent was right: you do look the part.”

 

And that’s how Laura Hollis auditioned completely unprepared for the role of her life to a semi-sober director at two in the morning in a middle of a party.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, did you get to this part? Yes? Well then, thank you for taking the time to read this!  
> I would very much appreciate and welcome comments and opinions since I don't know whether this is good enough to continue or I should just stop now. I haven't written fanfiction in a really long time, because I've been doing original stuff, but hopefully I'm not too bad. What else... um, English is not my first language and I also don't have a beta, so please, forgive my mistakes.  
> That's about it, I think, if anyone wants to contact me my tumblr account is noxita.tumblr.com (it's mostly inactive and very lame, but it's from another time, pretty much what I'm saying is pay no attention to the content).


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